Frosted
A "Frozen" Story by jordanwhowritesfanfiction
Chapter 1
Midnight Origins
The night was cold, but she couldn't feel it. She had never been able to feel the cold. It was as much a part of her as her own body, and the icy wind that whirled around her did nothing but cause her nightdress to shudder. She leaned on the rail of her balcony, staring out at the city beneath, her city. A few peasants were braving the cold night. She saw a middle aged man carrying firewood back to his home, a woman tying off her boat in the icy harbor, and a young couple laughing into the wind as they strolled down the empty streets.
The couple caught her eye. The man was dark haired and tall, and the woman short and fair. As she watched them, the woman curled her head into the man's chest, and he tightened his arm around her. The snow had stopped hours ago, but she held out her hand and sent a flurry their way. It was small, not enough to soak one's clothes or hair, but just enough to make the night a bit more beautiful. She saw the woman smile and hold out her tongue to catch a flake. Smiling to herself, Queen Elsa turned away from them and walked back inside, leaving the rail that she had been leaning on coated in a layer of ice.
The halls were lit by a few flickering candles as she made her way to the throne room. The candles lent an eerie feeling to the castle, throwing her shadow over the walls in exaggerated sizes and shapes. Her hair was the worst since she had cut it. The short tresses of wild white waves made monsters on the elegant walls around her. Elsa avoided looking at the shadows until she was at the door. With a bit of magic to quiet the shrieking hinges, she pushed the giant door open and slipped through.
Elsa always came here when she couldn't sleep. It was a reminder of what she had conquered. This was the room where she lost control, and the room where she had discovered herself. In addition, the grand portraits of her ancestors often calmed her frayed nerves, especially the ones of her parents. Looking at the exaggerated picture of their faces somehow lent her the strength she needed on nights like these. Elsa went straight past it this time though, barely sparing a parting glance at her mother and father. This time, she had another ancestor on her mind. This portrait was on the far end of the hall, and was so old that the paint had begun to crack and show the yellowed canvas beneath. Elsa looked up at the face, her heart clenching with something unknown. Fear? Understanding? She didn't know.
The resemblance was unmistakable. The woman was practically her twin. White hair, icy blue eyes and a reserved smirk that was nearly identical to Elsa's own portrait. But the most interesting thing wasn't the family resemblance, but the frost on the stained glass behind her. The entire bottom portion of the window was iced over. At first, Elsa had wondered why the artist had incorporated it. In nearly all of the other portraits, the window was a constant, exactly the same. But them she had realized. The ice was a marker. So then she had begun to look. Elsa had spent weeks wandering through the hall late at night, and she had found them all. White hair, blue eyes, ice on the window. Every three generations they appeared. Some were men, some were women, but all of them had to be like her. And all of them except her had kept their secret. Surely her father and mother would have known if they hadn't been able to control it. It left her wondering, how did they manage it? Elsa had done everything to push down her true self, even to the extent of hiding her powers from the one person she loved most in this world, her sister.
"Elsa?" a voice hissed in the darkness. As if summoned by her thoughts, Anna peeked her auburn head through the door, and shuffled over to where Elsa was standing. Anna rubbed her sleepy eyes and then groggily raised an eyebrow. "What are you doing?"
"I couldn't sleep, so I came down here." Elsa replied. She had been meaning to tell Anna about the portraits anyway, but couldn't really find a way until now. It had been two years now since Anna found out about Elsa's powers, and yet the years of secrecy between the sisters still left it's mark.
Anna nodded and pointed at the door, "Well you woke Olaf up, and he wanted me to check on you. He said his flurry started turning gray, so I…I, um, just wanted to check on you." She motioned with her hands when she talked, and fidgeted lightly on her feet. It was endearing.
"I'm fine, I guess I was just thinking too hard." Elsa said. Her creations often felt it when she was troubled or hurt. Sometimes, when Elsa was feeling especially lonely or sad, she would find Marshmallow at the door to the castle or look up to see Olaf waddling towards her with that crazy lopsided grin on his face. She looked at the painting, and then back at Anna, who was looking curious but unwilling to say so. Elsa gestured toward the portrait and said, "Come on, there's something I've been meaning to tell you about."
. . .
The sisters spent the next day rummaging through the library. Neither of them was sure what they were looking for among the family records and stories, but still they continued their search. Elsa was secretly hoping that they'd find a Queen's Guide to Having Ice Powers hidden somewhere, but no such luck. Elsa began by searching the first known ancestor to have the gift, her who knows how great grandmother, Anastasia. So far, all she found were family trees and boring logs of Anastasia's acts as queen. She was giving up hope when she heard Anna calling her name.
"Elsa!" she shouted across the library, causing Elsa to cringe with distaste from such a loud noise in a quiet place. "I think I found something on Anastasia!"
Elsa rushed two shelves over to where Anna was sitting cross-legged in a ring of opened tomes. When he sister saw her, she got to her feet and eagerly pushed a yellowed old book into Elsa's face. Elsa read it carefully. It seemed to be a diary, belonging to Anastasia's mother. This particular entry read,
"What have I done? In my daughter's greatest time of need I have pushed her away, and I hate myself painfully for it. Yesterday, Annie came to me. She confessed that she wishes to wed a serving boy. She claims that they are madly in love. Oh, what could I do? I cannot very well break an engagement to the Dauphin of Weasletown that is twenty years in the making. That would surely end in war. So what could I have done but refuse her request? It has cost me dearly, my cruelty. This morning we awoke to find both Annie and the serving boy missing. We believe they have run off into the mountains to be together, and I have sent every man we have available after them. My own king has gone after them. I know it will be my fault if they are not found, or worse, if they are found not alive. I weep to think of my sweet Annie shivering in the cold because of me. Oh gods above, what have I done? Who am I to refuse anyone true love?"
Elsa read quickly, taking into account the thousand-year-old tear stains on the paper. Anna then flipped the page to an entry dated five days later. "Read this one too." She said. Elsa nodded and sat leaning against the books as she began to read.
"My worst fears have been realized. Today, my king returned with my daughter and her lover. I fear we have found them too late. My dear Henry told me that they were caught by an avalanche and trapped beneath the snow. The soldiers heard the screams and saw the catastrophe from afar, but it was several hours before they got there. Annie's servant boy, Tomas was his name, was not as lucky as our daughter. The snow robbed him of his life almost instantly, for he was shielding Annie and took most of the weight upon his back. A noble death, I will see to it that he is given a hero's grave. Annie, oh how I fear for Annie. They brought her back asleep and blue as the winter moon. The best physicians in the country are tending to her now, and the trolls have been called, but they are not greatly hopeful. I write this from my daughter's bedside, and I am begging. If there are any gods who hear my cry, let it be known that I will do anything to save my daughter's life. Anything."
The rest of the diary was completely blank. Elsa closed the book with a huff. "This is it?" she asked looking at Anna. Her sister nodded.
"We know that Anastasia survived." Anna said, shrugging, "I mean, obviously, since she became queen and all. And the journal says nothing about powers before the avalanche, so there's that too."
Elsa sighed and got up from the ground. She helped pull Anna to her feet and then put the book back where it belonged. "I'd done with this for today," Elsa said, "Lets go ice skating or something." Anna nodded and followed Elsa out of the library.
The door closed behind the sisters with a soft bang, and left the library in near darkness. The sunlight through the windows shed a little light though, enough to allow the person in the library to navigate. He had been listening, waiting. Silently, he took the dairy the queen had just read and ran his hands over the yellowed pages. He laughed, knowing how close they were to discovering the truth. He placed the book back on the shelf, and then ran at the window. The latch opened as if on command, and the gust of cold air from outside made him giddy. Smiling at the darkened library behind him, the figure jumped from the window, leaving nothing behind but a layer of fine, beautiful frost.